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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24209152">F*ck That Noise</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynne_Paper/pseuds/Lynne_Paper'>Lynne_Paper</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Real Person Fiction</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Misophonia, No Beta, OP isn't ok, OP needs a hug, Other, Panic Attacks, School, Selective Sound Sensitivity Syndrome, Some Cursing, introduction, my own experiences, nice to meet y'all, this took me a couple hours to write lol, vent fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:01:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>896</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24209152</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynne_Paper/pseuds/Lynne_Paper</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A little introduction for myself, as well as some validation for people with severe misophonia. You're not alone!! I know I felt that I was, up until I validated my feelings by doing some searches on the internet. It's a short story from me.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>F*ck That Noise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello! I just got my account, and I'm excited to write. I figured I'd start with an introduction vent-story, sort of, just for myself or whatever. Don't feel hesitant to comment, if anyone sees this at all, just give me a "hello" and I'll feel all warm inside :)<br/>This takes place at my school, a little bit before the quarantine sets in.</p><p>And, I recommend you listen to this song while reading, just to set the mood https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xIJEmfOgcQE<br/>The artist encapsulated the feeling pretty well, I think, so it's worth a listen! </p><p>Some trigger warnings, I suppose? Violent thoughts, mental breakdowns, language.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>F*ck That Noise.</p><p> </p><p>My name, isn’t Lynne, but that’s alright.</p><p>I get good grades, I have people I admire. I’m not close to my friends, but I don’t hate them, either. Seemingly, it’s the perfect arrangement, something for me to hold on to until I can be free, to branch out and integrate with a group I like at a bigger school. If only that was all.</p><p> </p><p>Walking into class, I felt only apprehension.</p><p>I could hear it already, the loud breathing from classmates returning from our in-between period, the laughter and loud talking. It felt fuzzy, kind of far away. I wasn’t ready to face everyone yet, but I had no choice. Living in that dream, I urged my legs to move to my seat, right by the teacher’s speaker, at the front of the room. God, I hate that place.</p><p>The teacher commanded everyone else to go get in their seats, and they obliged. The teacher plugged in his microphone, and told us all to work on the warm-up, a series of math problems that he never taught us how to solve, making me a little uncomfortable. I could hear one girl slip a piece of gum into her mouth, and gnaw on it somewhat quietly somewhere behind me. That doesn’t help. I can feel my panic slowly mounting. As people finished the questions, the teacher told her to spit the gum out, as it isn’t allowed. She said that, since she has ADHD, she can chew gum— <b><em>No</em></b><em>. No no no, stop it. </em><b><em>Fuck</em></b><em> you.</em></p><p>She kept it in.</p><p>I sunk into my arms a little, in some futile attempt to escape.</p><p>The teacher looks down on us constantly, condescendingly. He didn’t hesitate to drink from his tea, that we are not allowed to have, with the microphone on— he didn’t hesitate to swallow, to cough, to click his teeth together and to take his shuddering breaths as he began his lesson. <em>Fuck you. </em>My classmates, all around me, clearing their throats, and chewing gum, and <em>breathing </em>and <em>sniffling </em>and <em>it hurts. </em>It hurts.</p><p>At that point, my head was fully buried in my arms, and I was breathing heavily.</p><p>“Lynne? You awake?” He called out to me. I could hear it clearly, of course, as I was right next to the speaker. He was grinning. He was <em>mocking </em>me. Although it wasn’t evident, I could tell. I sat up, eyes darting around, trying to focus on something, anything. <b><em>Fuck you.</em></b></p><p>I felt tears blurring my vision, and all I wanted—all I needed, was to escape. I didn’t care if I had to kill myself or others in the process. Despite knowing deep down that I would never do such a thing, I entertained the thought, letting it grow bolder in my mind, compressing it into something solid and staring down at the pencil in my hands.</p><p><em>I’ll kill him. I’ll </em>kill <em>him. And myself. </em>No.</p><p>
  <em>Breathe in, breathe out, you can get through this, think happy thoughts—</em>
</p><p>The noise grew more frenzied in my brain, and I kicked out my leg, simultaneously slamming my fists down on my desk.</p><p>I could feel their eyes on me, I could feel them, I could <em>hear</em> them. <em>Why can’t any of them see that I’m not okay?!</em></p><p><em>Please </em>let there be something wrong with me, <em>please </em>tell me this isn’t how I’m supposed to be, supposed to exist, this <em>can’t </em>be normal—</p><p>“Ah, looks like we have a horsie in here, neigh!” He said dryly. He didn’t sound as patronizing, though. But by now, it’s my normal behaviour, so he wasn’t worrying too much— ugh.</p><p><em>Goddammit. </em>To the rest of them, I’m sure it looked like I was just twitching and shaking over nothing. My normal behaviour, something that no one can figure out. Sitting up, burying myself down, plugging my ears in, breathing heavily. Why will no one come to my rescue, why does this <b>desperation</b> and <b>panic</b> fill me up, why does my chest constrict… I dug my nails into my fingers. I scratched my neck until one side burned. I picked at scabs around my fingers.</p><p>Noise.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Noise.</em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Noise.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>I couldn’t focus on my work, I couldn’t focus on anything but the noise. I’m not insane, not at all, just overreacting—that’s all it is, an overreaction. One that we can’t ever stop, one that fills us up and brings us desperation, and anger, and fear.What I would give, to survive this, to get rid of this. <em>Misophonia, </em>is what it’s called.</p><p><em>Ah… </em>I felt some pressure loosen its hold on me as the bell rang. I stood up and left as quickly as possible, legs shaking slightly. No one in my friend group came up to ask if I was OK. They’re all used to it by now, there’s nothing I can do. But it still hurts, to be left alone completely. Or maybe I was avoiding them. I can’t bring myself to care for them, outside of what’s necessary. I hate this.</p><p>Moving into lunch break, it takes over half the period to begin to feel normal again. I really want to see my crush, but she’s nowhere to be found.</p><p>This <em>noise </em>has done so much to destroy my life, and so I take shelter at home, locked up with my music.</p><p>My finger was bleeding.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Well, this was an experience I have had-- several times, really. That's why I'm a bit grateful for the quarantine, as I can just-- turn down the volume of my math teacher when he's speaking, and relearn the lessons later.</p><p>Thanks for reading! I'll post some fanfiction later, in a variety of fandoms-- dead ones or not, lol<br/>:)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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